The shadow had followed behind them, clinging to their steps; and the two children little suspected its presence when they at last sat down, trustingly, under the mighty protection of Apollo, who, with a great bronze gesture, lifted his huge lyre to the heart of a crimson sky.

Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Her hair was as golden as the sun's rays, and her soul as clear and blue as her eyes. She wheedled her mother, was kind to her doll, took great care of her frock and her red shoes and her fiddle, but loved most of all, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel of Music.

Everyone dies. I just choose the time and place for some of them!

I am an honest girl, M. le Vicomte de Chagny, and I don't lock myself up in my dressing-room with men's voices.

Are people so unhappy when they love?" "Yes, Christine, when they love and are not sure of being loved.

When a woman has seen me, as you have, she belongs to me. She loves me forever.

You must know that I am made of death, from head to foot, and it is a corpse who loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you!